


variety is the spice of life

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Multi, Partner Swapping, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop grinning, Jemma Simmons. You look like a lothario.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	variety is the spice of life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jynersq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynersq/gifts).



 

“Hey.”

“What?”

“ _Hey_ ,” she says again. He looks up finally. “I have a proposition.”

“I'm taken,” Lance says, and he means it as a joke.

“Precisely.”

He raises an eyebrow. Jemma's never shown an interest in him in that way before. And she's not now.

“What do you want, little freak?”

“I was thinking we could swap.”

Now he raises both eyebrows. “You want to swing with me and Bobbi? You and Fitz?”

She nods. Slowly. Big eyes.

“How did you know that I...?”

“That you're willing to tend to both the cocks and the hens?”

He laughs loudly. “Yes.”

“Bobbi and I are _very_ good friends. We talk.”

He shakes his head. “You're about to be even better friends,” he mutters.

“Is that a yes?”

“You know I can't make a decision for her.”

“I know. I'm just wondering if you're amenable.”

He sucks in a breath at the thought, and that's as much of an answer as she needs. He looks a little stardusted.

“Stop grinning, Jemma Simmons. You look like a lothario.”

“For the record, I'm not touching you,” she states.

“Fine. I'm not touching you either.”

Jemma rolls her eyes.

“Talk to Bobbi,” she commands.

“Shouldn't you talk to Bobbi, since you'll be...hen-tending?”

“Well, that depends. Do _you_ want to try coming on to Fitz?”

He pauses. “Fair point.” Then he pauses again. “Wait, is he even...?”

“Fitz is very fluid. He just tends to shut down at the first sign of proper innuendo.”

“Okay.”

She appraises him. “You're excited to get your hands on him, aren't you?”

He scrunches his face up. “Don't talk dirty to me, Jemma Simmons. I can't bear it.”

She leaves him silently.

 

 

 

 

 

“Bob!” Lance calls.

“Yeah, I'm in here!”

“The little scientists want to _do_ us. _Hard_ ,” he says as he rounds the corner.

Then he stops.

“I'm not _alone_ in here,” Bobbi says, head in hand.

“Hello, Agent May.”

“Hunter,” May says blandly. She turns on her heel and leaves before she can hear anything else incriminating. Lance is lucky she's a steel trap. He can't sit through another one of Coulson's sexual misconduct lectures. They can't clean the SUV any more than they already have.

“You're serving consecutive life sentences in May's hate prison,” Bobbi hisses after she's gone.

“It's fine, doesn't matter, did you hear what I said?”

“Something inappropriate, no doubt.”

“Fitzsimmons want to swing. With us. Have sex. With us. Except not me and Jem. Just you and Jem and me and Fitz.”

“Partner swap.”

“Yeah.”

Bobbi thinks for a moment. “I bet she's good at it,” she says, wandering look in her eye.

“Good at what?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. Little Miss Perfect? Yes, I'm sure she's brilliant at it, just like everything else.”

“You know she's going to be better at it than you.”

“Yes, yes, I bloody know. Wait,” he says. “So is that a yes?”

“Yeah, alright. Assuming Fitz is fine with it and actually wants to fuck you.”

“Why wouldn't he want to fuck me? I'm a catch.”

“Yeah, catch and _release_.” He can see her holding back from high-fiving herself.

“That was so teenager-y and mean I could vomit. I'll vomit right now.”

Bobbi rolls her eyes. That's turning into a pattern. “Go tell Simmons it's a yes. And try not to announce it in front of everyone this time.”

“Yes, my precious gumdrop.” He kisses her nose.

She looks incredulously at him for a long moment. “You're really excited to fuck Fitz, aren't you?”

“Yup.”

 

 

 

 

 

They meet in the dead of night – which is how Jemma described it to Lance, the 'dead of night,' when instructing him about the night's events – in Jemma's room. When Lance pushes open the door, the pair of them are already making out vigorously on the bed. Like teenagers.

“Oy,” Lance says. “Save it for the main event.” He lays down next to them on his side, head propped up in hand, like a bad pin-up. Fitz rolls off of Jemma.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Jemma says breathlessly to Bobbi, who had the good sense to stand back for a moment, leaning against the wall by the door and watching.

“We need to set up some rules first.”

“Of course,” Jemma says amenably.

“I want verbal consent from all of you before anything happens.”

Jemma pushes off of the bed and walks to Bobbi. “You have my consent to do whatever you want with me.” She's standing very close, and Bobbi's eyes linger on her lips. But Bobbi's too tall for Jemma to make any moves quite yet, so she regains some consciousness and looks to Fitz.

“Fitz? Are you sure you're alright with all of this?” Bobbi asks.

He looks over to Lance, who's still lying on the bed a few feet away, exposed by Jemma's absence. Then looks back to Bobbi. “I'm sure.”

“Hunter?” She moves on.

“Shit, yeah.”

She smiles a little.

“Are you sure you’re sure, Fitz?”

“Why is everyone questioning me? This was _my_ idea.”

“Ugh! _Our_ idea, don't pretend like we didn't say it simultaneously.”

“Wait, really?” Lance says. “Little lady made it sound like you were a blushing virgin.”

“I'm _discreet_ , unlike Jemma, if that's what you mean,” he says. “I don't go around shouting about it.”

Bobbi shoots Lance a pointed look.

“Neither do we,” Lance says quickly. “We don’t go around shouting about it.”

“We are _all_ discreet,” Jemma assures. “Nobody knows about this, right?”

Lance feels his eyes widen, but Bobbi cuts in: “Nope. No one knows.”

“Then we’re fine!” Jemma responds brightly.

“I'm not done,” Bobbi says. “Who's doing who?”

“I'm doing you,” Jemma says. “Vigorously. And Fitz and Lance can do whatever they like. And I'm not responsible for touching Lance's dick.”

“Everyone agree?” Bobbi looks around.

“Why is my dick so unappealing to you?”

“It's not your dick specifically; just you in general.”

“Rude,” Lance says.

“Focus up, guys?”

“You're the one slowing us down, Bobbi,” Jemma points out.

“Well, I'm not slowing us down anymore,” she lilts in return.

Jemma raises an eyebrow. Then she presses full body to Bobbi's long frame and leans up for a kiss. Soft and sweet – at first. And then, decidedly _not_.

Jemma kisses like the sun’s about to burn out and she wants to die doing this; and Bobbi is matching her, attempting to keep up with the excitement and the intensity and the eagerness. She is sugar-sweet and hard-pressed and they lose their clothes quite naturally.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Lance says, watching the two women.

“Mm. Yeah. Take off your pants,” Fitz says with his usual bluntness, and Lance twitches a grin.

Lance rolls forward and places a kiss to Fitz’s lips, wet and lopsided but overwhelmingly enjoyable. Fitz’s teeth scrape the soft pink of his lip as they tug and Lance groans. What a sneaky little charmer. Dedicated and knowledgeable but with the face of a kid grown up too fast. Lance’s fist lingers at Fitz’s belt, pulling hard, making every moment count.

And then he gets shoved directly into Fitz by Bobbi’s forceful hand. In a fury Jemma had climbed into Bobbi’s arms, legs hooked around her waist, and now Bobbi is shoving them over to make room to lay her down on the bed, hasty to get somewhere.

Her lips leave coal-fire prints along Jemma's sternum, burying herself among hills and valleys of soft flesh. Jemma squirms.

Lance wants to tell them off for hogging the valuable bed space but his words get caught in his throat; and Fitz is stripping him of his pants, exposing his cock and eyeing it with interest.

“Go on, Fitz,” Jemma breathes somewhere behind them, and Fitz takes it into his mouth.

Lance groans.

The hollow of his cheeks house unholy ghosts, chased away by the space Lance is now taking up in his mouth. Big eyes and a loud slurp. Lance holds him by the cheek and throws his own head back, closing his eyes.

Despite her strength, Bobbi finds herself flipped and pinned down, distracted by some clever fingers in a new place, surprised moan used against her. Jemma feels triumphant above her, smirking, rearing back on all fours like a smug cat. She lets loose tendrils of her hair trail slowly down Bobbi's middle as she travels towards the promised land.

Jemma noses the soft patch of hair there for a down-feathered moment before she feasts.

Lance lays back shakily on the bed just in time to witness Bobbi's moan.

“What's up?” he breathes.

“Not much,” she pants back.

“You were supposed to say my cock,” he huffs.

“Really not focused on your cock right now,” she winds.

“Did you two just high-five?” Lance says, looking down.

They both hum innocently. The vibration is quite something, and Lance groans. Fitz runs his tongue along his slit and he jerks. Shit. This could be potentially very embarrassing for him. He sits up, pulls Fitz up to kiss him on the mouth. Salty and sweet. Good lord.

There is a long sanguine moment of push-and-pull, but Lance can’t really wait anymore, impatient as he is. He sits up to help Fitz out of the rest of his clothes in a stuttering fury, moving too fast to get anything done efficiently, before finally _finally_ getting him free. Then he pushes Fitz down.

Jemma looks up. “Oh, isn’t that nice, Fitz! You’re letting him top.”

Lance groans. “Jemma, for fuck’s sake.”

“What?”

“Is it your life’s duty to emasculate me?”

“Yes.”

“Jem,” Bobbi whines, so Jemma starts rubbing her clit and turns back to Lance.

“Go on then, I want to see this.”

“So you can judge me?”

“So I can get off on it later.”

“Oh, so you do find me fit?”

“No, I find the idea of Fitz getting fucked in the ass quite attractive though.”

“Would you two shut up, please?” Fitz bites, prone on the bed. “This is demoralizing! Just get on with it!”

“Go on, love,” Jemma says, conceding. She returns to her task, making Bobbi squirm.

Lance leans over Fitz, dropping kisses on his back up to his neck. “Your girlfriend likes to wind me up,” he says in Fitz’s ear, fingers below them preparing.

“My partner likes winding everyone up,” Fitz responds. “You’re just an easy target.”

“Rude.” Lance pushes forward. Fitz smirks.

Bobbi is purring on the other side of the bed, ready to burst. Jemma isn’t about to leave a fellow agent in pain like this, so she goes deeper, faster. That’s the trigger, just when Jemma wanted it, and Bobbi comes, fragmenting and loose, unwilling to stem the tide.

Jemma licks her fingers, getting up to lie next to Bobbi’s quickly rising and falling chest, ignoring the two boys rutting enthusiastically next to her.

“Don’t look so smug, Agent Simmons.”

“I’ll stop looking smug once you stop giving me a reason to feel so,” Jemma responds primly.

“I don’t think I can move right now,” Bobbi pouts.

“You could if you really wanted to, _Agent_ Morse.”

“Okay, but I don’t want to.” Then her eyes alight with an idea. “And I don’t _have_ to.”

Jemma’s brow rises of its own accord.

“Oh.”

“What do you think about that?”

Jemma grins. “I’m amenable.”

Jemma straddles her, and Bobbi's arms hook soundly, almost sinisterly, around her thighs to hold her in place.

From this view she can see a cascade of blonde hair and superspy _come hither_ eyes. Also: Lance biting Fitz's shoulder, hand reaching around to grab the base of his cock. And Fitz throwing his head back. And Fitz groaning.

Jemma struggles against a moan.

And struggles and struggles. Bobbi's quite talented. And unstoppable. Jemma can't stay upright anymore, she doesn't have any feeling left, so she goes reeling forward on her hands, searching for steadiness and rubbing deeper onto Bobbi's tongue as she cries out.

It's a trust exercise to come undone like this, exposed and out of control. Jemma can't help but trust Bobbi.

When she finally blinks the stars from her eyes, panting, she rolls over to find Lance and Fitz, fed and spooning, on one side of her and a rather satisfied-looking Bobbi on the other.

Bobbi leans over her to give Fitz a kiss. When she pulls away he raises an eyebrow.

“You taste like Jem.”

“I know,” Bobbi says simply. He understands. Bobbi's a gift.

“Now kiss Lance,” Fitz says sleepily to Jemma.

“No,” she pouts.

“Come on, share,” Bobbi nudges.

“No.”

Lance leans over Fitz and instead blows a raspberry onto her neck. She shrieks with laughter.

“This was a great idea,” Bobbi murmurs.

“Yes, it was,” Jemma says, smug as ever. “Now. Who’s ready for round two?”

 

 

 

 

 

Fitz is the last one to breakfast the next morning, and he zooms out to the table with a confused look on his face.

“What?”

“May just handed me a box of condoms and then walked away.” He sits down quickly next to Jemma.

Lance swallows. “She probably heard us last night.”

“Nah, impossible. I soundproofed Jemma’s room ages ago.”

He gives them a look. “Why would you—? Never mind.”

“Somebody must’ve told her,” Fitz says.

Bobbi and Lance meet eyes. And then Bobbi gives it up, cheeks full of Lucky Charms. “It was Lance!”

“What?” Jemma frowns.

Lance sighs. “I accidentally let it slip in front of May.”

“How do you accidentally—” Fitz starts, but he’s interrupted by Jemma’s laughter.

“You’re taking this well,” Lance grumbles.

“She also knows because I told her,” Jemma says, wiping giggles from her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“I consult with May on all of my sexual practices,” she shrugs.

“And she’s okay with that?” Bobbi asks.

“I don’t think she enjoys it,” Jemma muses. “But she says she’d rather know who to kill beforehand than have to figure it out later.”

“I will never understand your relationship,” Lance mutters into his coffee.

“Thank you,” Jemma responds.

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Don’t be jealous, darling.”

“Jealous? I’m not _jealous,_ I’m—”

“So everything’s back to normal, then,” Fitz says quietly.

“Yup,” Bobbi responds, and they watch their loves argue for no reason while they finish eating. Normal.

 


End file.
